Son of A Famous King
by BellPepperyPepper
Summary: This story is going to be a crossover between Fable The Lost Chapters, and Fable 2. Harper Twinblade is the son of the ever famous Bandit King Twinblade. Though he has grown all his life being taught in the way of bandits, his father has taught him respect and honor. Until one day Harper sets out on his own journey, and ends up in the most unusual of circumstances. M to be safe!
1. Destruction

Well, if you're reading this, my journey has more than likely come to an end. Meaning I'm dead. Not resting or taking a break or anything like every normal person in the world. Given I was normal once, a long, long, long, very long time ago. I was thrown into the story you are about to read, quite literally thrown now that I think about it. This old, bat crazy blind seer who think that she owns the enti- you know what? Just keep reading, you'll get where I'm going with her. She's kind of a big deal in this whole thing. I bet you want to know who's writing this? Well. My name is Harper Twinblade. And this, this is my story.

I remember fire. So much fire. My entire village was in a panic. Bandits, many groups of them descended upon Oakvale for unknown reasons. They just came out of nowhere, taking children hostage, but not for more than a few moments before…..well, you know how bandits are. No survivors and all that. I pushed myself up from the ground, my ears ringing so badly that I couldn't hear the screams around me, only the loud booming of bombs going off and other strange noises I didn't recognize. I slowly rose to my feet and stumbled in the general direction of my home. I pushed the splintered door open and screamed my mother's name. I can't even recall what it is now. I couldn't find her, couldn't hear her calling me from right outside, maybe if I had then I could've tried to…..no, I was only seven. There's nothing I could have done. As I turned to continue my search I saw my mother's face. I also caught sight of the sword that was sticking out of the front of her chest, gleaming in the sunlight. She fell to her knees and the sword made a sick squishing noise as the bandit pulled it from her back. She reached out to me, and I ran to her. "My child," she whispered to me, her body shaking, her eyes clouding, "I love you so much, so very, very much." She used her last reserve of strength to pull me to her, and then, she died. I didn't have time to cry, or feel the anguish of her death, because something rather large and heavy struck me in the back of the head, rendering me unconscious. The chaos that was once my home, my life, my everything, faded into darkness.

They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. What didn't kill me, made me wish I HAD died. I laid there with my eyes closed, thinking about how nice it would be to just lay there and never get up again. What would be the point? I was an orphan now, no mother, never knew my father, and no one to protect me. Orphans didn't fare well in Albion, what with hobbes running amuck and whatnot. And then I felt it, a small pressure on my back, some kind of pointed something or other, pressing right on my spine. "And what do we have here? One that managed to slip past us?" a rather, uneducated, sounding voice said. Great. More bandits. I turned to gladly face what should have been my death, but no, oh no no, not for me. No easy way out. "You there! Lower your weapon and stand aside!" A booming voice thundered through the ranks of men. What I mistook for a walking tree was coming towards me, the men almost bowing at its feet. This tree of a man was no less than seven feet tall, wide as any house I've ever seen, with many scars upon his face and a very scraggly beard. "All make way for the Bandit King! Make way for Twinblade!" So from what I hear, I'm about to be killed by this so called Bandit King, good for me. But I was wrong. He came towards me, but he wasn't looking at me. He was looking at my mother's body, lifeless on the ground beside me. "No, this can't be…" he whispered and knelt down beside me. I saw the hurt in his eyes, the pain he got from seeing her dead. What was his connection with my mother? He reached out to her and closed her eyes, then he turned to me. "You. She was your mother. You have the same face." His voice was no longer loud and terrifying, but soft, almost longing, as he reached out to touch my face. "Come my child, I have much to explain to you." He took my hand and lifted me off the ground effortlessly, so even if I didn't want to go, I didn't have much of a choice. I followed him and his men out of the village, and I took what was to be my last look of my beloved home, and I knew I was never coming back.


	2. The Girl In Chains

When I opened my eyes again, I was staring at a poorly built wooden ceiling. There was the horrible stench of burning fats and meat in the air, which I'm guessing is what woke me up. I turned my head and looked around without getting up. There was a broken down bookcase with two books on it, a chest which I'm assuming held various weapons, clothing, and trinkets, a shabby desk with a chair, and the hard, animal skin cot I was currently laying in. There was another cot next to mine, and in it was the girl from the day before. I was happy to see they removed the chains while she slept. I looked closely at her face, which was cut and bruised badly. Almost like she knew I was watching, she groaned and opened her eyes. "Please, it hurts…it hurts so much…" she whispered. She pulled her arm from the floor and reached out to me. I got up and knelt by her side, holding her and doing my best to be comforting. "What hurts? I can try to help you but you must tell me what's wrong," I whispered back. She reached her other arm into her blanket and I saw the bottom of her ruined dress pulled up her to her chest. "It hurts here, can you see anything?" I looked down to her ribs, and I did see. They were severely bruised; three inch patches covered her from chest to waist. I guessed that her ribs had been broken, and that would mean I needed to set them so they could heal. "Okay, I'll need some bandages, but I can help you." I squeezed her hand briefly to let her know that I was here for her, and then stood back up.

I walked over to the chest and opened it. There weren't any bandages, but as I had guessed there were plenty of clothes. I grabbed one of two of the shirts from it and closed it again. The shirts weren't very clean, but they would serve their purpose. I began tearing them into strips, and tied the ends together to make one long roll of bandages. The knots would be uncomfortable, but it's better than broken ribs. I knelt by the girl again and took her hand. "Alright, you must have a few broken ribs, and I can help you, but it's going to hurt." I looked down at her and saw no fear, but sadness. "That's alright, physical pain is nothing to me," her voice was low and shallow, almost hollow. "Okay, I need you to sit up, one, two, three," on three I pushed her back up into a sitting position, and I hear her groan. She sat for a moment, before nodding her head for me to continue. I held one end of the bandage in place while I began to wrap it around. After the end I was holding was secured, I counted to three again before pulling it as hard as I could. I saw her face twist in pain, and a strangled moan escaped her throat. "I know, I know, I'm sorry, but I have to set them or they won't heal right." I waited a moment before wrapping around her again and pulling. I continued wrapping and pulling until all her bruises were covered. I looked for something to hold the end in place, and snatched a pin out of the wall that was holding up a hide of some poor animal. I stuck the in through the rags and bent one end to touch the other, holding them together. "Alright, it's over now, get some more rest. Can you tell me you name?" I laid her back down and stroked her hair gingerly, trying to soothe the poor girl. "It hurt's less now," she whispered, "And you can call me Theresa," she whispered. "My name is Harper. It's nice to meet you, Theresa." I smiled and watched her eyes slowly close. "Thank you, Harper, thank you…." Her voice tapered off and in an instant, she was peacefully sleeping.


	3. The Son of Twinblade

I, on the other hand, was far to awake to even lay back down. My stomache growled painfully, begging for something to feed it. I pushed the rickety door open and wandered out into the sunlight. It was funny to see the sun, I had expected it to be dark and stormy. After everything that I had just been through ot was almost an insult for the sun to be shining as though nothing had happened. I made my way through the winding paths between cabins, loud shouts and sounds of laughter coming from them. There were a few fires going with pots boiling over. I lifted one of the lids and my hunger was immediately shoved aside. Whatever was in that pot was burnt beyond saving, and I assumed that was where the awful smell was coming from. I continued on my way and was stopped short by an odd sight. Twinblade was sitting by one of the fires alone. His profile was sad, almost remorseful as he stared blankly into the flames. My feet inched closer and closer to him against my will. I wanted to know why he saved me, why he brought me here, and how he knew my mother.

"I know you're there, Harper." His quiet, but forceful voice broke me from my train of thought. I jumped and let out a small yelp. "I-I'm sorry, I was just- I wanted to ask-" I stuttered, trying to convey why I was there. "It's alright, Harper, come sit here, I have a lot to tell you." I went and sat on the log next to him, staring expectantly. He sighed and gazed back into the fire. "Almost eight years ago, I was raiding a nerby village with my men. We were looking for people with particular…..talents, for a cause. I kicked in the door of a cottage, and I saw your mother standing on the stairs." He lowered his head and was silent for a moment. "I regret the action I took on her that day, but I was not myself, and she was so beautful," ,I was beginning to regret hearing this story, I was sick to my stomach and wanted to run away, " A few years later, I had heard from one of my men that she had a daughter, around the age of three, and I knew it was you, Harper. I'm sorry I couldn't save your mother, but I knew I could save you. You are my child, and I will not let anyone harm you." He looked at me with moist eyes, and I turned my head away. "You let her die….," I whispered, "You left us both behind, condemmed us and never gave us any thought," I began to cry silently. Why should I trust this man? He betrayed us. I knew in my heart that I should just run, run and never see him again, but there was nothing left for me in the world, he was all I had left. "I'm sorry, I wish I would have known you as you grew, I think about it everyday."I turned towards him and forced my face into a blank look. "Alright, I'll stay with you. I have nowhere to go besides here," At this his face lightened, and he smiled, "_But_, I want to be friends with Theresa, the girl you brought as a slave. She needs me, and I need her. Let me to be her friend until we get older, I don't want to be alone." He smiled again and nodded his head. But he wasn't finished with me either. "Of course, Harper, but I have something I ask of you as well. These men are not friendly, and they are particularly aggressive with women, I know you are my daughter, but I must ask you to act as my son. For your own protection." He started hard at me, and I nodded. So now I must be Harper Twinblade. _Son_of the Bandit King.

I walked back into the cabin I woke up in. Theresa was awake again, sort of toying with a bowl of gruel. She turned and saw me, and she grinned and her face lit up. "Harper! I thought they took you away!" I smiled back and sat down next to each other. "No, Theresa, in fact, Twinblade said I can keep you company while you're here." She squealed and hugged me tightly. She must be thankful to have a friend in the world. She pulled away and got a strange look on her face. "Wait, as long as I'm here? Does that mean you'll be here longer?" I put my head down and nodded. I didn't want to tell her why I had to stay. She turned my head toward her, looking scared and worried. "Harper, are you okay?" I managed to force a smile, "Yeah, I'm fine, I just hope in the end we can walk out together, still friends." We hugged again, and promising to be friends until the end, no matter what the end may be.


	4. The Begining of the End

**Eight Years Later**

"Your hair is getting long again, Harper." I turned my head up from my book to see Theresa standing in from of me with a pair of scissors and a comb. I rolled my eyes at her and stuck my face back in my book, pretending I didn't hear her. I also didn't want to look at her. For one thing, she was back in chains and I hated seeing my old best friend like that again. And two, she has some sort of….strange ordeal going on with my father. He favors her, being a girl and all. He can't treat me like a girl, his girl, and it makes me unbelievably angry. Hence the reason she's my old best friend. Past tense friend. This was one of my usual hair cuts. Once my hair touches my ears I have to have it shorn off again for my cover. "Harper, please. I know we aren't the best of friends anymore, but you know I always want to be." I sighed and threw the book in the corner, sat up and faced the mirror. "That's more like it," she said with a smile. She took the scissors and began cutting the hair to a very stubbly length. I watched my hair fall to the ground. It was like losing a part of me every time it happened. After telling his boys that he had killed the bastard child, he certainly couldn't have me running out with hair, or spend an unnecessary amount of time with his "son". So I sit in my hut, reading books or daydreaming, while Theresa just soaks up his attention. She moved slowly moved from front to back with the scissors, it always takes so long. I know she's waiting, hoping, that I say something to her. I haven't spoken to her in a friendly way for many years. I heard her sigh in disappointment. I was trying not to care, I did miss my friend, but I just couldn't handle the fact that my dad could love her more than he loved me. "There! All finished!" she said triumphantly. I stood up and brushed the cut pieces from my clothes. I looked in the mirror as I ran my hands over my shaven head. Sighing, I unwrapped my bandana from around my arm, which is where I keep it when my hair gets long, and tied it over my head. I sat back down, eager to get back to my book, when I heard her whisper from the doorway, "It's sad that he makes you cut your hair, it was always so pretty." That did it. I hurled the book towards her, hearing it bang as it hit the wall when she ducked. I leapt off the bed and ran towards her. "Well why don't you ask him then? Since you're so close and whatnot!" I screamed. I pinned her to the wall and snarled into her ear, "You have everything I want. You have the love of my father, and for that I cannot stand to look at you." I threw her out the door and drew my sword. "I don't know why he keeps you alive, you serve no purpose save for my maid, but I no longer require your services. I watched her eyes widen as I drew the sword into the air above my head. I knew she was screaming, but the blood rushing in my ears let me hear nothing, nothing but the sick satisfaction of having her finally out of my way. But as my sword made its downward swing to its target, I was tossed into the air. My ears rang as I hit the ground headfirst. I rolled on instinct and was back on my feet in seconds, only to see Twinblade picking that wench off the ground. "Harper. What do you think you're doing? Drawing your sword on prisoners is never allowed, you know that." I fumed. Why would he stop me? We don't need her. And I needed him. I just threw my sword down and stomped away, back to my hut. Fine. He can have her, why should I care? I threw myself onto my bed, forcing sleep to come.

Outside the hut, Twinblade sighed in disappointment. He turned to Theresa and looked at her sorrowfully. "I'm so very sorry, my love. I had hoped things would turn out differently." She opened her mouth to question him, but a gag was shoved in before she could. He bound her arms and threw her towards his men. We have word that her brother, the Hero, is on his way. Take her to the cells, and be sure he knows we have her." He turned and sulked away, not seeing the horror in her eyes as she was locked away in the dark, knowing her brother was surely walking to his death.


	5. The Plunge

"Harper, I know you aren't asleep. Get up, I need to speak with you." I heard the deep voice as the edge of my mattress bent at one corner. "Idon'twanttotalkaboutit," I murmured quickly into my pillow. I felt his hand on my back and wanted to flinch away, but couldn't. It was the first sign of fatherly affection he had shown me in years. I jumped up and threw my arms around him, refused to let go. "Father please! I need you! I'm so lost, I don't know who I am! I'm your daughter, not your son. I'm so tired of pretending!" I sobbed into his massive chest. "I know, I know. I'm terrible for putting you through all this, but they would've killed you otherwise, and I couldn't have stopped them. The most I could do was teach you so you could fight for yourself one day when you were ready." I looked up at him hopefully, longing for him to say what I desperately needed to hear. "But that day is not today, my dear." My look of hope flared into anger. I shoved myself away from him and stood in the corner. "So you'll defend some waif who is of no use to you? Rather than your own flesh and blood? Need I remind you of my mother?! How you let us suffer and let her die?!" I kept shrieking, tears streaming down my face. He just stared at the floor. "Harper, you do not know Theresa's story. She has it far worse than any of us." He sounded so forlorn, so solemn. I walked back to the bed and sat down. "So tell me then, how does one have a life worse than mine?"

"I found Theresa eight years ago, you remember the day though you were only seven." He stood, clasping his arms behind his back. "Her village had been attacked, Oakvale, not far from the village you lived in. They destroyed everything in their path. A wild band of bandits slaughtered the townspeople, tortured her mother in front of her. They beat the girl, ruthlessly, and then left her in the woods to die, her brother was missing, there was no one to save her." He bowed his head, almost as if in mourning. I looked sheepishly at the floor, so maybe she had it a little worse than I did. But I had no idea what had happened next. "She crawled through the woods for three days before we found her. She was on death's door, just waiting to be taken. But we took her instead. A week later we stumbled upon you, the bandits that had destroyed Oakvale had moved to your village, towards our camp. We had to kill them, or be killed ourselves." He sat back by me and looked at me intensely. "Harper, we let you befriend her to give her that last joy in life before this day had to come." I looked at him curiously. "And what is so special about this day exactly?" He looked as if he was about to cry, his eyes becoming watery with tears. "Today….is the day we prepare her for her death. Her brother, he is the hero that all of us bandits have been searching for we've gotten word that he is in the area, and we cannot let him interfere with plans. He must know we have her, and then, he must see her die." My eyes widened in shock. "You…monster, you've been raising her as, as bait! Grooming her for slaughter and death all these years!" I stood and backed away from him. "Harper please, you must understand. This is our way. We fend for ourselves and no one else." I shook my head and ran out of the hut.

I stopped running about ten minutes later, bracing a tree incase I got sick. I couldn't believe my father was capable of such uncompassionate acts of this magnitude. I looked down the path and saw the prison cells. I walked slowly towards them, not knowing what I would do when I faced her. The doors creaked as I pushed them open. I knew immediately there was something odd happening. Instead of the depressed sobbing I had expected, I was met with….laughter. She was laughing. I found her cell and slowly opened the door. "Well well, if it isn't my 'best friend'," she spit the words with such sarcasm and venom that I felt like she had gotten up and slapped me in the face. "Theresa, I….I came to get you out, I didn't know why they were keeping you here. My father, he just told me, everything." I stepped towards her. "Stay away from me!" she snarled, I guess she didn't appreciate me pulling a sword on her earlier. "You, you don't care about me, you never did because of your petty jealousy." She looked up at me with the upmost hate she could muster. But then it changed, changed into more of….a sneer, a prideful sneer. "But you know who does love me, your father. He told me so." I turned to look at her, and I could feel the heat rising in my chest. "Oh yes, he loves me very much. More than he ever will his own daughter. He's not going to let me die. He'll get me out and keep me by his side forever, while you slowly drift out of the picture." I bolted towards her and slammed her down on the floor, my hand on her throat and my knee on her chest. "You watch your tongue wretch! You don't know anything about him!" He kept sneering at me, and it was beginning to get on my nerves. "And what are you going to do? Kill me? Go ahead I don't care." And then I saw it. She was trying to get me to kill her. She knew she would be tortured otherwise. "No, my dearest friend, that would be too easy for you. I have a more…intimate way to deal with you." I slowly drew my dagger, positioned myself above her, and slowly brought it down to her face. "I'm growing tired of that prideful stare. Remember my face Theresa, for it will be the last thing you ever see."

The agonizing screams that followed would forever remain unheard.


	6. Out of the Darkness and Into the Unknown

_Hi everyone reading this story! We're at a marker here, Harper is out of camp now, and the fun stuff is going to start soon. I'm not sure how this sounds as you're reading it so reviews at this milestone would be much appreciated! Let me know what you think!_

.

It turned out that I would stay in that same cell for about a month. I can't recall exactly how many days passed due to sheer boredom, you know the kind you get where you're just so bored you can't do anything? Yeah, it was like that. Well anyway, I spent most of those days throwing rocks against a wall, or using said rocks to etch pictures on the walls, practicing I guess you could say, I do enjoy doodling. I also practiced my hand-to-hand combat skills. Swinging at invisible opponents for hours on end breaks a sweat like you wouldn't believe. This was my punishment for harming Theresa.

**Flashback**

_I pulled my knife from her unconscious head, watching the blood drip from the blade. I had never felt such sick satisfaction from an act as terrible as this. I walked out of the dungeon, smudges of her blood upon my hands, a widening smirk on my face that turned into all-out laughter. The guards, who had no idea I had even entered, ran in behind me, and began screaming things that my laughter drowned out. My father sprinted towards me, looking behind me I'm sure he saw them dragging out her blind body, along with my knife. I saw the horror on his face. He gripped my shoulders almost painfully, but I was in too much shock from what I had just done to fully feel it. "Harper! Harper what have you done?!", he screamed. I only smiled at him. After a few moments I craned my face towards his and whispered to him with as much hate and malice as I could, "For every woman you love more than I, I will take something from you both. From her, her sight that she used to gaze upon you with hope. And __**you**__," I spat the word "you" with all the venom I could muster, "from you I took the only thing you had to offer, your ability to protect her. From anyone." With those last words his expression changed to one of rage, and he caught the back of my neck with one massive and carried me, struggling, back to the cells. He saw the bloodstains on the floor where I had gouged out Theresa's eyes, and threw me viciously onto the stone ground. "I don't know why, Harper, why you would do something like this from jealousy. I thought I had taught you better than to be common scum." He slammed the cage shut and stormed out, closing the master door behind him. He left me stunned and wide-eyed at his words. "Common scum," I thought to myself, "well then maybe I should think of moving on." I sat down to think, and was very glad that I was not afraid of the dark._

So here I am now, still locked up and planning my next move. I've barely eaten, about once a week unless I think I can do less. I've managed to take the rest of my food and tie it up into my jacket for keeping until I can leave. The men haven't noticed, they don't want to get too close to me out of fear for their personal safety. Water will be a different issue. I'll have to steal it on my way out. I crouched down by the bottom of my cell door to examine it. The lower hinge seemed fairly weak from the years of wear. I backed up, braced my hands against the stone floor, and kicked at the hinge with all my might. The door groaned angrily, and fell to the ground, missing me by a few inches. I stood up and crept out of the cell and to the entrance. Before I could get to the outside, both guards spotted me and drew cutlasses from their sheathes. I had no knives, swords, or weapons of any kind on hand. They drew nearer to me, ordering me to return to the cells, but I raised my fists and advanced in return. They may have weapons, but they didn't possess the superior fighting skills my father had taught me. In a matter of minutes I had them on the ground, one bleeding from a high kick to the head, the other sprawled on the ground unconscious from a headlock. I ran from the dungeon, dashing the 100 feet to my hut. I paused inside, waiting to see if anyone had noticed me, and then snatched up my pack and began stuffing it with anything I could reach. A few spare clothes, the months worth of food I had saved, and my waterskin. I tied the pack shut and slung it over my back. Turning to the far wall, I saw the last things I had been looking for. My twin nine-ring broadswords. My father had them made for me when I was young. These swords meant a lot to me growing up, and I wasn't about to leave them now. I strapped the belts across my chest and exited the hut, creeping towards the stables. I approached the fourth stall, and a smile came to my face. "Settle, Seana, settle," I whispered gently, opening the gate and saddling her. I've had Seana since I was ten; I named her to match Mathias, Twinblade's horse. And a gift from God she has been to me, getting me out of more than a handful of scrambles. I led her out of her stall and climbed into the saddle, and we set off to the camp gates. Glancing around, I saw Twinblade by the fire, a very solemn look on his face. He looked back up at me, and for a moment, I thought he would try to stop me, but instead, he looked back down to the fire, and in a soft tone said, "Return when you are ready. You have much to learn, my daughter." And with those words, hearing him call me daughter for the first time in eight years, I knew that I must go, must see the world and return a better person, stronger, so as to not hurt someone like this again. I nodded, teary-eyed and worn down, I wrapped my bandana around my head and lower face, and dug my heels into Seana's ribs. She reared up with a mighty shriek, and sped us off into the world. And so my story begins.


End file.
